I did like her style
by foxwings007
Summary: The Misfits visit the UK. But how well will they cope when Jetta leaves the Misfits. Please R & R
1. Ideas

**_This fic is copyright of foxwings 2005. I do not own Jetta, The Misfits or any other character in this fic. They belong to Hasbro and Sunbow 1985-2005. This fic is set sometime in between Britrock and the Stingers hit town. This is a stand-alone fic covering the idea that Jetta was the only Misfit never to leave her band, and what would've happened if she temporally ventured away. Enjoy the story and please leave a review, your comment are always appreciated. _Finally this is a monster so don't give your self a headache **

It was a hazy afternoon, as Jetta walked down the beach, the sun reflecting over the sea, casting shadows where she walked. She wandered up to the deckchair where Roxy lay. Roxy was lying in her skimpy leopard skin bathing suit, with the sun reflecting in her glasses, which were balanced precariously on her head. Her eyes were loosely closed and she was breathing slowly so it was hard to tell if she was awake. Jetta sat on a towel next to Roxy's chair, watching the waves ripple in the sun. The beaches were beautiful here, not like the ones at home in England. She had been in the Misfits for more than a year now. She loved the thrill of getting up on stage, of the crowds roaring, of Pizzazz voice, beating out hard-driving lyrics. But it was nice to be able to relax, and to afford luxuries others can only dream of. Jetta was from a rough background, where she had to survive on wits alone. It made a nice change to be safe all of the time, a reward that she believed she had earned. Roxy had also come from a harsh background, and to some extent, she understood why Roxy got so annoyed easily. The Misfits, apart from Pizzazz, each had their own painful story to tell. Pizzazz had had an easy life, though she too had experienced emotional trauma.

It was less than a month ago, that Jetta had taken the Misfits to England. She had tried hard to convince them she knew the royal family, but Jem came on cue, and ruined everything as usual. Jetta was surprised that she had not been kicked out of the band yet. She was glad that particular path of fate remained covered in dust. Though she could never tell them, the Misfits were the closest thing to family, that she had ever known. If she were kicked out she'd lose her wealth and even her right to be in the USA. On a deeper level she was scared of losing Pizzazz's respect, of losing Stormer's sympathy, and even of losing Roxy's care. And Jetta knew Roxy cared. They weren't that different anyway, their backgrounds and child hoods mirrored each other. They argued often, but Jetta knew Roxy liked her, and deep down the feeling was mutual.

Roxy turned in her chair, now clearly awake and nudged Jetta lazily.

"C'mon lets go find some food." Jetta stood up and continued to watch the ocean, while Roxy wrapped a towel around herself. Jetta could see out the corner of eye that Roxy was a little burned. She always amazed herself with how good her peripheral sight was. She followed Roxy to the Misfits van. Jetta automatically went to the passenger seat. Roxy was a brilliant driver and if Jetta took the wheel she would be continuously reminded until they reached their destination. Roxy drove smoothly up to the Gabour mansion. She drove so well, it was all most as if she was one with the vehicle. The Misfits were staying at the Gabour mansion on Pizzazz's invitation, but they practically lived there. Stormer was the only one with her own house, while Jetta and Roxy both had small apartments on a high rise block of flats. They were awful rooms that smelled of damp, and the flimsy locks constantly broke, allowing anyone to walk into a room. There had been an unfortunate incident with Roxy, her shower, and a stray photographer. So the girls were only too happy to stay with Pizzazz and her father.

Jetta followed the path up to the back of The Gabour Estate, where she could see Stormer lounging on a float in the pool. Pizzazz was sitting on a deck chair, eating a hot dog and talking to Stormer. Stormer occasionally nodded but didn't say much. When Pizzazz began chatting it was easier to leave her to it, and make some small actions to show you were paying attention. Roxy came up behind Jetta and opened the gate.

"Oh Roxy, thank goodness, I-" Stormer stopped herself, feeling Pizzazz's eyes on her. Roxy waved acknologing them and slinked into the house. Stormer smiled weakly at Jetta. Jetta returned the favour and sat back by Pizzazz, allowing her to continue her 'conversation', which was something to do with her father and Eric.

"And then, would you believe, it said it was my fault. MY fault!" Pizzazz opened a can of lemonade in anger and poured it slowly on the floor.

"I hate him, what I wouldn't give to…"

"…Destroy him?" Finishes Stormer irritably. "Why don't you just BUY Misfit's music. Then Eric pays."

"Because I don't have that kind of money." Shrieked Pizzazz

"Well, we do!" replied Roxy emerging out into the garden, now fully dressed

"Yes, we'll all put our bit in luv," said Jetta finally coming into the conversation.

"I'd still need to…'borrow' some of daddy's money. I'm really trying to get back in his good graces."

"We've that concert coming up. The tour in the UK. This is gonna be great publicity right?" Stormer asked looking round.

"Yeah, so?"

"So if we get it on TV, and get your dad to watch it…then maybe he'll buy the company back. Y'know, see what a good investment Misfits Music is."

"Sounds bloody beautiful 'Zazz!"

"Yeah, well we'll see, C'mon lets go in, it freezing." The others looked at the bright sky then followed their leader in through the French window.

Pizzazz idly flicked through the channels, both American, and Jetta's English ones. She stopped dead on the all new "Lin-Z Pierce Channel". There was a picture of five faces, that were all to familiar.

"….Jem and the Holograms, when they announced this mourning they were going to shoot the commercial for their new album in London." Pizzazz threw the remote in annoyance.

"There goes another television set" sighed Stormer.

"Jem and the sing-alongs stole our idea. Remember, that last album had Big Ben in the background. They must've run out of original ideas" sneered Roxy, kicking the little table next to her destroying a lamp.

"Did you see the dates, they're going the same time as us."

"What a suprise" muttered Jetta sarcastically, "But still, it gives us a chance to 'ave a little fun, right?"

"What do you mean by fun?" Asked Stormer nervously trying to comprehend just how twisted Jetta's plans were now.

"So lets wreck their equipment or something" finished Roxy.

"I was thinking, more along the lines of, a little 'contract signin'. Who'd like the 'lograms openin' for us?" Jetta smiled deviously as the others nodded excitedly.

"I can see now" laughed Pizzazz. "C'mon lets go find Eric."

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	2. There she goes again

**Sorry this took so long, I've a lot of GCSE coursework at the mo, especially art, so I'll try and do what I can :) **

The Misfits and Eric descended the steps from the huge cruise ship. Roxy was complaining about the food, Stormer following her looking disgruntled. Jetta, however, looked exceptionally pleased with herself.

"I forged the contract," boasted Jetta proudly.

"And?" asked Pizzazz, her cat like eyes widening in excitement.

"And I got it back. Signed." Jetta smirked. At last she was completely secure in the group.

"What contract?" asked Eric, who was already sweating. He didn't like the sound if any of the Misfits writing a legal document.

"The Holograms are opening for us!" said Pizzazz, her voice an octave to high.

"Isn't this great!"

"Terrific". Pizzazz didn't seem to notice Eric's sarcasm.

"How did you manage that Jetta?" inquired Stormer who looked neither ecstatic nor impressed.

"I just wrote something about their concert, us opening, and a little bit of a loop hole. Apparently they didn't read the fine print!"

"But Jetta, won't Jem wonder why we're opening for them. She might not even turn up." Pointed out Stormer.

"Forget it Stormer, it isn't even our fault. If they're to stupid to read the foot notes…" Roxy mumbled some insults into her sandwich**_.1_**

-------

"Clash come with me and get some shots of the stage. Now Pizzazz…" Eric turned wearily to her, "we're on a tight budget. Do not wreck anything, or it'll come out of your wages."

"Yeah, yeah, lighten up." Pizzazz slumped into an armchair, and put her feet on the coffee table. Her sharp heels scratched the ebony surface.

"Pizzazz, this room was expensive…" began Stormer.

"Oh, stop worrying. Everything's fine." The phone rang and Roxy picked it up (and in her haste broke a priceless clock.)

"whoops. Hello?"

"Ah hello Roxy, good news." Roxy winced and held the receiver away from her ear, Clash screaming rather loudly, "We've made a little business deal, and guess what?"

"Nope, I'm stumped. What?"

"The tv program, it's going to be live, and better still, they've already printed tv mags, that show Jem and the fruit pastels opening for us! Ooooh -gotta go, see ya." Roxy stared amusedly at the receiver before slamming it. Jetta smirked.

"Ya see, British intuition."

Pizzazz leapt up, knocking a table over.

"Lets go now. If we turn up to an early practice, Eric might let us off from the later ones!"

----------

The phone rang again

"Hello?" purred Pizzazz.

"Is that you Pizzazz?" The band could all here a very indignant Jerrica Benton.

"Why, hello, my _dear _Jerrica" Pizzazz's smile widened, and Roxy smirked. Jetta watched the phone carefully, as though it might leap up and bite her.

"Why are you opening for us?" Asked Jerrica suspiciously.

"Oh, haven't you read the contract, you sound confused." Pizzazz giggled facetiously and passed the phone to Jetta. Jetta gulped. She had no idea what this gesture meant, and she didn't really want to talk with anyone who had seen her paper works. But, she reminded herself, she had been careful. Jerrica couldn't possibly have found a loophole.

"Maybe we should meet up, because we need to talk about the dates and stuff." Jetta suppressed a laugh as she heard Kimber and Jerrica bickering down the other end of the line.

"Well, 'olograms, why don't we meet up? Then we can discuss _your_ concert." Jetta hung up and smirked. Pizzazz nodded approvingly and stood up.

On her way out, she brushed Eric with some excessive force, and dragged Clash along.

"I want their faces on film, when they realise how the tables have turned." She smiled gleeful as the band arrived at the Holograms stage.

"My _dear_ Jem. How nice to see you!" Pizzazz shouted, taking the biscuit.**_2_**

"It's the Misfits" Shana whispered audibly. Raya stepped forward.

"What're you doing here?"

"Talking to you" shouted Roxy grinning.

Jem walked towards the Misfits. Jetta saw the contract, which had been torn.

"You wanted us to open for you? That's rich! But-" sneered Kimber.

"-But you're opening for us" finished Aja. Jetta backed away a little, but Roxy caught her arm and gripped it tightly.

"What?" asked Stormer looking round.

"It was only in the footer that we were told _we _were playing for _you._" Smiled Jem

"So?"

"So we ripped the bottom off." **_3_**

Jetta sank a little when she saw Pizzazz's face flush.

"You wanted to play dirty. Well so did we." Said Jem, "See you on the seventh!" she waved. The Misfits turned and walked away as a silent unit.

"Eric's gonna kill us." Stormer pointed out, breaking the silence. Jetta knew she was right.

"Jetta, you idiot!" roared Pizzazz turning round annoyed.

"The seventh is supposed to be our concert."

"Well, I am sorry!" growled Jetta

"If you don't want my help, if you don't appreciate, then I quit." She watched Pizzazz's cat-like eyes slim;

"Fine."

"Fine" said Jetta, walking away from the group. She could just about hear Stormer whining, then she found herself in a taxi, heading home.

_**Finally! I do apologise for the wait.**_

Foot notes (with weird humor.)

**_1_**The turkey is nice here

**_2_**To coin a phrase

**_3_**I very much doubt this'd work in the real world but it's only fiction. Do not mail me with detailed accounts of fake contracts of the past, I'm busy, very busy (I'm training to be a lawyer.)LOL :) Hope you're enjoying the story so far, I'll be quicker writing the next chapter.


	3. Frost sets upon those who stay still

**Finally! Here's the next instalment. I've been rushed of my feet, but here's the next chapter.**

"Jetta, YOU IDIOT!" Pizzazz whirled around her hair whacking Jetta in the eyes before revealing her madly widened eyes.

"The Seventh, that's or concert" roared Roxy, lividly.

"Eric is gonna kill us!" Stormer groaned, her voice cracking painfully.

Clash stared coldly. Jetta was swept over by the iciness of her band mates.

She turned in her bed, and slowly began to wake up. She looked around the minuscule room. She tried to ignore her thoughts of her absent band mates. Jetta entered the even minuter bathroom, and examined her reflexion. She was pale, and her mane was flat and lifeless. She looked down at the toothpaste tube, and imagining it was Pizzazz, she squeezed it maliciously. The white paste skirted out and splattered over the mirror. She returned to the dinky bedroom. There was an uncomfortable miniature brown camping bed, and tiny cheap oak wardrobe, and a tacky old settee, with peeling brown leather, of the ugliest shade.

Jetta had never felt like this; so… subordinate. Her band mates were gone, and yet she still felt them glaring at her back. She knew she could phone Stormer or, even, Clash or Eric, but she didn't know if she wanted to go back. The events that had transpired, so quickly, were not her fault. She could believe they could blame her, she was after all their…friend. She kicked the wardrobe, and its door sagged. Feeling drained of her strength she went down the stairs of the crummy B&B. She read the sign- "all the essentials" and thought dully of how it really was the bare necessities. Jetta would return, if her band mates make it known that she was required, but she would not go begging.

Jetta walked down the cold, nostalgic street, the buildings all looked the same, and it remained her of life, even before the Tinkerbillies. She remembered playing in clubs, clubs that all looked the same, in the same quaint little rows as this one. She had been playing electric guitar, and trying to right some blues songs, mainly about her neglected child hood. A strange old man who had enjoyed a particular performance very much, lent her his silver saxophone. She was only about 14 and repaid his kindness by running away with it. She had seen the Tinkerbillies play a few times; their paths kept crossing at the numerous clubs they rotated around. She began to become influenced by their music, which was rock. So Jetta started to right songs that were faster, and more rebellious. When the Tinkerbillies heard her new approach to music, they presented her with a black ebony saxophone, and asked if she would join. It was her dream come true, and although life was rough, she believed she had fulfilled her dream.

At this point Sheila adopted the name Jetta, and could truly leave her parents. She was just 15 when her first song with the Tinkerbillies got to number five in the British charts. She performed on Top of the Pops, in front of hundreds of people, and it was the song she wrote. After a few years however, it became apparent the Tinkerbillies were unlikely to have another hit. So Jetta began researching, to try and write a fantastic chart topper. As her crave for knowledge heightened, she began to realise that their was life outside of London, outside of England. She asked the Tinkerbillies to come to America with her. They had very little money, and so paid a cheap airway, which was probably illegal, and began to reinvent themselves. To Jetta's sorrow it turned out to be just the same, playing in club after club. At this point she was giving up, when the Misfits stormed in and, they wanted _her_ and not the others. She joined them without looking back. This was defiantly her dreams come true, The Misfits were hits.

Jetta sighed and turned into another winding lifeless street, but bumped into someone. She stumbled back and looked up to see the handsome face of none other than Craig Phillips.

"Hello Sheila" He said, half-heartedly. "Mary, I mean Stormer asked me to have a look for you. She sounds worried."

"What about the others? Are they upset?"

"I've only seen Eric, and he's a wreck. As for young Roxanne and…_dear _Phyllis, well who knows. Their like bricks, you can't get inside them." Jetta grumbled acknologing, and then followed Craig from the deep inner-city, to the outskirts. Jetta realised, abashed, that she didn't know where she was, because her eyes had been bleary in the taxi. 'It was just the dust' she assured herself, as they gradually gained ground on the on looking sunlight.

**Well, I hope you like it so far, I'll try and write the next chapter faster, I promise :)**


	4. Cold Flames, Hot Snow

Chapter 4

**Hi Y'all! I'm sorry this is so late, I've had so much work. This is probably not the most excitnig chapter, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! (Thanks to Shana78 for the idea of including Big Ben.)**

Stormer tutted and forced Pizzazz's stationary feet of the seat and plopped down. Roxy's eyes met Stormer across the table. They remained locked for second, before Stormer turned to her leader. They were sitting at the dining table, and Pizzazz's legs were strewn over Jetta's vacant seat. After a minute of deadly silence, Stormer dared to look at Pizzazz. Roxy's eyes followed her blue-haired friend's line of vision. She came to rest on Pizzazz. It was impossible to tell how Pizzazz felt, as her face was hidden beneath her hair, her heart behind her pride. Stormer rolled her eyes in exasperation and groaned. Roxy looked down a little but her face remained unreadable. Eric coughed loudly, as he entered followed by Clash, and Techrat. Eric coughed again, louder.

"Shut up" grumbled Roxy thickly. Eric sat down obediently and nodded at Techrat. Techrat began to waffle in his eerie voice.

"This device will help us find Jeffa…"

"Jetta" Clash corrected. Techrat cursed under his breath.

"It works by……" Stormer switched off. Consciously she knew she should've been listening. Her mind wandered back to the previous night

_' "C'mon, we're leaving" Pizzazz commanded. Stormer protested but was cut off by Eric's agreement. Roxy put her hand on Stormer's shoulder before returning to her packing. Stormer was surprised, by Roxy's gesture, but deeply grateful. However Roxy kept her voice, her face and her body blank. Stormer guessed blankness was Roxy's defence mechanism, and deciphered it as meaning Roxy was upset. She had after all, had no opportunity to get a word in edge ways. Pizzazz acted as though world was ending, with over dramatised anger. Stormer's interpretation of Pizzazz's feelings had always disturbed her. She tried not to get inside her leader's head. In the past perhaps she would have followed the others in suite, but she had more confidence, she was no longer their sheep. Clash served that purpose. She sat on the plane next to Roxy; Pizzazz seemed to have disowned them and she lounged next to Eric. Normal Roxy would be flicking crisps at Eric, but she contained herself. Maybe she was afraid of hitting Pizzazz? Probably not. Having an emotional conversation with The Misfits was virtually…no definitely impossible. ' _

"…….and it can track internationally." Techrat finished, and flicked his 'hair'.

"Great, but we're not going back to England, duuh!" Roxy stood up irritated and eyed Pizzazz coldly. There was an element of disgust in her eyes.

"Get up Pizzazz" she commanded.

Pizzazz looked up disgruntled before following her right handed accomplice. Jetta was the left.

Jetta woke in the taxi and opened her eyes fully. She could see the taxi driver's hat, and the top of Craig's blue hair in the front. They were heading towards the airport. When they arrived Craig flung in some coins, and followed Jetta into the airport.

"Miss Burns, you can't on this plane without a passport."

Jetta sighed. She didn't know if she was relieved or annoyed. She walked outside quickly, trying to loose Craig. But he found her.

"Remember what I said, face up to your friends." Craig walked off. Jetta was left leaning on a fountain, holding her coat around her, and snowflakes whitening her black mane.

She walked quickly to raise her body temperature. She felt like she had hypothermia. There was one place to go. And she didn't like. She could see Westminster bridge with her peripheral vision, but she focusing ahead. She walked into the square, and saw Big Ben, and the Houses of Parliament. She closed her eyes tightly and inhaled, feeling her ribs crush her heart. She held a breath for second, indulged in nostalgia, before exhaling and opening her eyes. She followed her chosen route, which brought her to Downing Street. Following a minor network of alleys, she found what could only be described as slums. She walked past the youth hostel, where she had run to in her child hood.

She arrived at her destination, her feet subconsciously stepped up the three slippery steps. She rang the bell. The door opened and Jetta was momentarily blinded by cooking steam. When her vision returned, she saw the face of Flo Burns, rings under her eyes. Her attire consisted of a hair net and an apron. She was holding a rolling pin. Sheila felt a whack. For a second she was blinded. When she regained complete control she managed

"Hello mother"

Sheila sighed with relief as her mother retreated into the house, a sign of acceptance. Jetta entered and slammed the door. The whole small hallway was completely wonky. Jetta looked at the crooked stairs, and hung her coat and scarf on the banister. She entered the tiny kitchen and sat at the table. She watched her mother sweat over a stove, she was cooking something that might have resembled a toad in the hole, without the good taste.

Flo turned wearily to her daughter.

"I could kill you for bein' a pain, or for y'running away. But your father's worse"

"What's 'e done now?"

"Only gone and left me this filthy house!". Jetta frowned confused. Her brain painfully latched on to her mother's hints.

"Yuh mean 'e's left ya?"

"No. E's gone an' topped 'imself."

Jetta blinked blankly, before turning away. She heard her mother turn round and curse. Jetta raised her eyebrows. She hadn't had a brilliant relationship with her father. She was not exactly deeply traumatised. His suicide came of no great surprise. It's not to say she wasn't upset, but she did not have much in common with him.

"As e' left me anythin'?"

Flo shrugged. Sheila sighed. Irritated her mother swore under her breath.

"I 'ere you've left your fab American band. Not good enough for ya?"

Sheila groaned. It was going to be a long night.

**Hope you liked, the next one is coming soon :)**


	5. Turn around, follow the sound

**Well Here it finally is! Sorry for the wait.**

**Chapter 5**

"Here's an original idea girls, lets go and find her."

"Shut up Eric" groaned Pizzazz

Stormer agreed with her manager but kept her mouth shut.

"Jetta's nothing without us, she's just Sheila." Grumbled Roxy

Stormer shook her head; "What are we without Jetta?"

"What we always were" answered Roxy, "We were The Misfits before Jetta and we are now."

"But pre-Jetta we had song ideas. When we found her she had loads of new ones. Now she's gone… well we've no inspiration."

"Now Stormer," Eric interrupted smoothly "it used your job to think of songs my dear."

"Well the well of ideas just ran dry." Stormer stood up and moved as far away as possible. She was tired of being the final slot in the band, the weak link. She was more appreciated than ever, but still it wasn't enough. She wanted Roxy to calm down, and Pizzazz to stop sulking. She decided at that moment, that she was going to take matters in to her own hands. Jetta was perhaps the most loyal Misfit. She must be pretty upset too, to not want to come back. Once again she had been too clever for herself. If she was the only one who could express her emotions verbally, then so be it. But it was time for action. So without hesitating she ran past The Misfits and into the cockpit. It was a private jet, so she saw no reason why they couldn't turn round.

"Excuse me, but we want to go back to England. And If you don't mind, make it a slow, wide turn around, there's no rush."

"Yes, Miss" sighed the captain. He pushed some buttons and Stormer left acting normally.

"What did you ask the pilot?" inquired Roxy.

"Just how long we'll be."

"And?"

"Not long"

--------------------------

Sheila sat watching the clock, thinking remorsefully a bout her father. In some ways he was better than her mother. Thankfully Flo had gone to bed leaving a steamed, and frothy kitchen. The clocks short and long hands bounced into the north position. Sheila took her saxophone, and left the hat, quietly closing the crooked door behind her. She allowed herself to wander back through the suburban maze, to an open palisade. She walked up some familiar cold iron steps, onto a small, nostalgic, makeshift bridge that went over a fairly busy road. She used to come here with one person and him only. And Sheila knew damn well her father had flung himself of this bridge, the old drunk that he was. She looked down. There was an oily puddle on the side of the road, in which Sheila saw her reflection as a young girl. Her family was so poor, everyone in school had teased her and driven her to hiding on the bridge. It was a safe haven, where she could enjoy the one special gift her parents had given her; her sax. She began to play a slow reprise of her first song with The Misfits - where Pizzazz had told her in song that she belonged in better places than her family could afford. Pizzazz of course, had the opposite problem - too much money, not enough common sense.

------------------------

The Misfits personal jet landed in a private field at two o'clock in the morning. Stormer hurried them out, and the jet left to find a proper air port. Stormer, fearing the locals would shoot on site, ushered her band mates and colleagues to the edge of the property, and into London proper.

"Where the hell are we? What do you think your playing at?" whispered Raymond loudly.

"shhhhhh!" hissed Roxy. She knew they were in England, and she knew now they had to get Jetta back, and perform their live concert properly. Pizzazz looked really annoyed. Somehow though, she controlled herself from not uprooting nearby trees.

"We're going to get Jetta. Because, and no matter what you say, it's true that we need her."

Stormer followed the saxophone, which was repeating a tune over and over. That was unmistakably Jetta. Her band followed Stormer, who just for once _knew _she had done something right.

**The Next chapter will be the final one for this story, but I'm doing loads more Misfits stories after this, so keep an eye out for them…!**


	6. Maybe we always liked her style

Chapter 6

Stormer continued running, her band in throttle behind her. She followed the saxophone sounds, brain completely in a whirl. She could see the clear silhouette of Jetta on the bridge. She stopped at the bottom of the bridge, her friends assembling behind. Eric was panting beyond help. Pizzazz was examining a particularly interesting patch of sludge on the bridge. Clash looked around, waiting for someone to follow suit. Roxy, unafraid was looking straight at Jetta, and seemed to be in deep thought. The dazzlingly familiar sound from the bridge came to an abrupt finish.

Shelia knew there was someone there, but at the angle all she cold see was the footsteps pointing to their creators. She had the strangest feeling it was The Misfits. She wanted to believe they were there, so badly. But they weren't. She sighed remorsefully and threw her sax over the bridge railing. She closed her eyes tightly, then re-opened again daring to look down. There was her beloved, lying twisted in the road. Had her father looked like that. She felt the strangest sensation, a burning in her eyes.

"Don't cry," she moaned to herself. A single tear slipped out.

"Don't cry," replied a voice behind her.

Jetta turned her head so sharply she though it would fall off. There was Roxy watching her carefully, the owner of the voice. And now, quite clearly, Jetta saw Stormer, Clash and Eric ascend onto the bridge. Stormer gently brushed away the tear, which clung, to her own cheek. She put her arm around Jetta and pulled into a hug. Jetta, suprised by the gesture stood dumbfounded, completely bemused but happily hugging her friend back. Before she could let go she felt Roxy's muscular arms pull them close. She giggled sheepishly, as did Roxy. Clash stood beaming, and wandered down the steps leaving Eric to wrench the girls apart.

"Pizzazz?" asked Clash , "aren't you going to join them?"

Pizzazz withdrew her gaze from somewhere far away. "I guess, we do need her after all."

Clash nodded, willing her icon to continue. She didn't. She gently climbed the steps, almost silently.

"Jetta" she aid coming close.

"You don't really know the Queen do you?"

"well of course I do, you bloody yanks are all the same, thinking _I _would make up such a thing…"

"…'Course, 'course, you are a Misfit still then?"

"Well yank you're ever born one or your not. Guess that means I was."

Pizzazz smiled genuinely before descending.

"She doesn't say much, does she?" said Jetta

"She doesn't need to" replied Roxy, giving Jetta a final smile, and following her leader. Clash waved and followed them too.

"Now Eric, Sheil- I mean Jetta will need a new sax."

Jetta's laugh echoed throughout London. The laugh of someone seeing there tight, evil manager truly crying with rage.

Jetta and Stormer left the bridge together leaving Eric cursing.

Stormer began singing;

_I come right out, say what I feel  
I won't mince words, you've got my appeal _

Pizzazz and Roxy joined in.

_  
Baby, I like, I like your style, I like, I like your style  
I know you are versatile, I like, I like your style.  
I won't waste time, I'll come to the point (huh)  
You don't belong in this kind of joint  
B-b-b-baby, I like, I like your style, I like, I like your style,  
I know you are versatile, I like, I like your style _

They reached the plane home and boarded.

_  
We could make some noise, you and I (huh huh hoo hoo ha hoo)  
Are you ready, are you willing to try? _

"Thanks Stormer, I know you turned this plane around."

_  
B-b-b-baby, I like, I like your style, I like, I like your style  
I know you are versatile, I like, I like your style.  
_

"You would know. You're the cleverest Misfit. And you are a _true _blue-blooded Misfit."

_Yeah,_

_**I like your style!**_

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**Well I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing. All characters copyright of Hasbro etc, story © Foxwings blah blah…. I will be writing more Misfits stuff ASAP, so please keep an eye out. Your reviews are always nice so keep 'em coming :).**

**Thank you very much for reading!**


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